I really ought to stop reading con reports

[figmo]

It rarely fails to happen:

1. I go to a con.
2. I feel good for having gone to the con and having had a good time.
3. I read the con reports, see myself totally absent, and get really depressed.

This continuously amazes me, given that I've done some things over the years I thought were highly conspicuous. I once coordinated the smuggling of a sousaphone into OVFF. I have run cons. I have done concerts complete with costume changes and choreography. I've tried to make a sanitary napkin with wings fly while on stage. I've brought an insufferably cute dog to cons.

This time even the dog didn't get mentioned.

Comments

[mdlbear]

I sympathize, but then I look at my own con reports, most of which are cursory at best. I tend to concentrate on what I did at the con, in part because I'm so bad at remembering names that I'm unlikely to mention everyone I met or whose performances I enjoyed. I don't want to slight anyone, so I tend to err on the side of not mentioning anyone.

As for running cons, or filking at cons, the people who do all the work don't usually get a mention unless something goes drastically wrong.

[figmo.livejournal.com]

Point taken. I should keep reminding myself that folks keep coming back to Consonance and flocking out to it.